Gospel Story Finder

“Where did you get your name?” Elizabeth asked Jenny as they climbed to the fork in the branches of the old cherry tree and settled in to enjoy the spring sun shining through the leaves.
Jenny had never thought about where her name came from. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I guess from my mom and dad.”
“No—I mean, where did they get it from to give it to you?”
“Where did they get if from?” Jenny repeated, puzzled.
“Well, Mother said that they named me Elizabeth and hoped that I’d be as strong and courageous as my great-great-great- grandmother Elizabeth. She crossed the plains with a covered wagon, and she walked most of the way and never complained a bit.”
Jenny smiled, but something in the way Elizabeth talked about her grandmother Elizabeth made Jenny a little envious.
“And she got married when she was seventeen,” Elizabeth went on enthusiastically, “and she had nine children. Four of them died when they were little, but she kept on going. She made hats to earn money while her husband served a mission. I want to be just like her: strong and valiant and faithful and courageous and wonderful.”
“Is that all?” Jenny laughed good-naturedly.
“Are you sure you’re not named after one of your ancestors?” Elizabeth queried her friend. “Maybe a famous queen named Jennifer or something? We could have magnificent times pretending to be the women we’re named for.”
“Nope,” Jenny said a little sadly. “I’m not named after anyone. I’m just me.”
“Well, ask your mother. Maybe she’s just never told you.” Elizabeth made it sound as though you weren’t important if you weren’t named after someone else.
“I could pretend that I was named after someone,” Jenny said, wishing that she could change the subject.
“It wouldn’t be the same,” Elizabeth persisted. “Somehow when you’re named after a true blood relative, it makes all the difference in the world.” Elizabeth leaned closer and whispered, “It makes pretending seem almost real.”
Jenny smiled. Sometimes Elizabeth’s dramatic ways made Jenny feel as if they were on television or something, not just friends talking to each other.
“Jen—ny! Jen—ny!” her mother called from the back door. “Time for lunch.”
“I have to go now,” Jenny said, “but I’ll see you right after lunch.” She climbed down from the cherry tree and ran into the house.
Mother was at the sink, filling water glasses with one hand and holding Joey, who was crying, with the other. Jenny was still thinking about what Elizabeth had said. “Why did you name me Jenny?” she asked.
Mother looked up startled. “Because we liked the name. Don’t you?”
“Yes. But why Jenny and not Ann or Margaret or some other name?”
Joey cried louder and hit one of the glasses with his two-year-old fist, sending water spraying across the kitchen.
“Joey!” Mother cried and began wiping up the water while trying to calm Joey down.
Jenny took Joey from her mother and sat down. But she couldn’t quit thinking about her name. Why couldn’t I have been named after some fantastic, wonderful woman I could tell stories about? She hardly noticed her mother taking Joey for his nap or even the taste of her sandwich. Why don’t I have the name of someone I can dream about and try to be like?
“Is anybody in there?” Mother put her nose next to Jenny’s and peered into her eyes and laughed.
Jenny laughed too. “I was just thinking.”
“I could tell,” Mother said. “But what were you thinking so hard about?”
“My name. Why am I just Jenny and not Jenny named after some other Jenny?”
“What?” Mother looked even more puzzled, so Jenny started from the beginning and told her everything.
“I can see why Elizabeth likes being named after her great-great-great-grandmother. She must have been a wonderful woman. But you do have someone wonderful whom you can try to be just like.”
“I do?”
“We all do. Let me show you.” Mother got her scriptures, then sat by Jenny and opened them to section 20 of the Doctrine and Covenants. “Read this,” she said, pointing to verse 77 [D&C 20:77].
Jenny quickly read it. “That’s the sacrament prayer on the bread,” she said.
“What does that have to do with me being named after someone wonderful?”
“Do you remember when you were baptized and Dad and I told you about the covenants that you were making?”
“Yes. You said that taking the sacrament each week was to remind us to keep those promises. But I still don’t understand. …”
“Read this part of the verse again,” Mother told her, “starting with the second ‘O God, the Eternal Father.’”
Jenny found the words, “‘… that they are willing to take upon them the name of thy Son’”—Jenny stopped and read it again—“‘that they are willing to take upon them the name of thy Son.’”
“When we take the sacrament,” Mother explained, “and have been baptized as members of His church, we promise the Lord that we are willing to take His name upon us and to be called by His name.”
A warm tickle spread up Jenny’s back. “I do have someone I am named after!”
“Yes, but it is a very sacred thing. It is not something to pretend about in the cherry tree. It is not something to even talk about lightly with friends. But it is something that you should think about every time you partake of the sacrament—and every time you make an important decision! You are a member of Christ’s church. You should be like Him and live worthy of His name.”
“Wow! That’s a lot to think about.”
“It’s the most wonderful name you could ever hope to be called by. So don’t worry about Jenny being just a name. You have another name to live up to.”

Even if you’re nearing graduation and feel sure about the answers to those questions, it may be wise to think again. I say that from personal experience. As a senior in high school, I knew exactly the path I would take through college. My goal was to attend the Harvard Business School, just like my father. In answer to my questions about what that would require, he had informed me that the Harvard Business School admissions officers appreciate students with degrees in fields other than business, particularly science and engineering majors. That sounded good to me, because I love geology. For that I am indebted to Ricks College professors who taught me to appreciate the mountains and unique geologic features around Rexburg.

With this clear graduate school goal in mind, I declared geology as my major when I filled out my college application. Everything went according to plan. I enjoyed the geology classes and made rapid progress toward graduation. I also got a summer internship with a large oil company exploring the possibilities of geothermal energy. But I never went on any field trip that wasn’t required for a class, nor did I attempt to get to know my professors outside of the classroom. My grades were good, and I felt confident that the admissions officers at Harvard would be sufficiently impressed with me, notwithstanding my lack of practical experience or enthusiastically supportive faculty mentors.

In fact, I felt so confident that I didn’t apply to any other graduate school. I was thus completely unprepared to receive a “thin letter” from Harvard. For your future reference, acceptance letters often include not only the good news of application success, but also information and enticements designed to win your quick acceptance of the admission offer. These “thick letters” are fat and heavy. By contrast, a statement of rejection is relatively brief, making for a very thin letter. My Harvard thin letter, which weighed less than one ounce, crushed me, as it brought an end to a lifetime of dreaming.

In fairness, my thin letter encouraged me to reapply after gaining at least two years of full-time work experience, as nearly all successful Harvard Business School applicants do. But my devastation wasn’t just a matter of wanting to be admitted quickly. I seriously doubted my ability to get meaningful work experience. The price of oil had fallen by half during my time in college, on its way to falling by half again in the next two years. [2]

In other circumstances, I might have had the patience and optimism to take the Harvard counsel to get work experience and reapply. But experienced, graduate degree-holding professional geologists were being laid off in droves. The woeful joke at the time was that the best natural resource department in Denver, a leading energy hub, was also the shoe department at Sears, the Walmart of that time. Jobs in geology, especially for bachelor’s degree holders, were all but impossible to find.

Now, you may be wondering two things. One is how I could have been so foolish and unlucky in my educational plans. The other is why I am telling you this frightening story. The answer to the first question, about my foolishness and apparent bad luck, is that I can now look back and see that heaven was blessing me in spite of my vain ambitions and overconfidence. We’ll talk more about that later.

For now, let’s focus on the things you can learn from my scary story of bad college and career planning. In my defense, I did one important thing partly well. That thing was choosing a long-range goal to guide my choice of a college major. Rather than just picking a subject that I really liked, geology, I also picked it based on a post-graduation goal: getting into the Harvard Business School.

But I should have been looking past graduate school and on to the life’s work for which my degree would prepare me. I should have been making my best guess about what the life’s work would be. Was it to be a professor and academic administrator, like my father; a research scientist, like his father; or perhaps a real estate developer, like my maternal grandfather? Unfortunately, I wasn’t asking any of those questions.

I continued to study the gospel, however, and one day, late in 1974, I left a note at the chapel in Wollongong, New South Wales, saying I wanted to meet with the missionaries. Once again they began teaching me. Three times they set a date for my baptism, and each time I postponed it. (Once they even had the font filled!)
My indecision came to an end when I was offered an excellent position as a translator for the Australian government. For this position I would have to travel to Canberra each Sunday, making it impossible for me to attend church. I decided not to join the Church, and to take the job.
Not long after I made the decision, I suffered a heart attack, which left me unfit to accept the position. Once again I promised to be baptized, but this time persecution from my former minister friends made me change my mind.
I was then offered a position as a Calvinist bishop, responsible for all the migrants in New South Wales. As I contemplated this offer, I suffered another heart attack—my seventh. I realized then that I could die at any time, and that I wanted to be baptized.
At last, on 15 March 1975, after knowing the truth but putting off acting on it for so long, I was baptized.

In the fall of 2024, not long after being called to be an area organization adviser in the Europe Central Area, Laura Echarri Hermoso traveled more than 5,000 miles (8,047 km) from her home in Pamplona, Spain, to sing as a guest member of The Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square.
She had been in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA, for just three days when she tested positive for COVID-19 and quarantined herself. Her opportunity to sing in the choir for the upcoming general conference seemed out of reach.
In the loneliness and isolation of her hotel room, she knelt and prayed. She hoped for healing. She longed to be able to sing. She kept her faith.
In a difficult time of loss when fertility treatments proved unsuccessful and her mother was suffering from Alzheimer’s, Sister Echarri couldn’t find her voice to sing as much as she once had. It was hard because music had always been an important part of her life. “It’s a need I’ve always had since a girl,” she said.
Sister Echarri (left) with her mother, María.
While praying, a thought came that she needed to sing with more people. A week later, she was contacted by a Church authority who interviewed her. “He spoke about a musical project the Church was starting and that they were looking for singers,” Sister Echarri said.
He didn’t say the specific purpose, but after a second interview, the authority revealed that the Church wanted guest singers for The Tabernacle Choir’s Global Participant Program to sing in general conference.
“And I started to cry because I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I felt the Lord was there and that the Lord was aware of me, and it was something I never, ever expected,” she said.
The interview was only preliminary and was followed by a second interview with others. Sister Echarri also had to record herself singing and submit several recordings. Then she had a final, virtual interview with Tabernacle Choir associate music director Ryan Murphy. “I was super nervous,” she said.
Ultimately, she was chosen with 13 others worldwide to sing in general conference, and in September 2024, she boarded a plane for the United States. After arrival, she was diagnosed with COVID-19 and that’s when her quarantine began.
Solitary isolation far from home taught a profound lesson: The Savior would provide comfort in her loneliest moments (see John 14:26–27). “I thought I was not going to make it,” she said. “I was quite discouraged, but I had faith. At the same time, I wasn’t feeling well. Now one of my main objectives is to look for those who may feel alone and try to give them relief.”
After eight days of isolation, her health and voice recovered, and she practiced with the choir. She joined her voice with hundreds on the stand in the Conference Center and sang at the October 2024 general conference.
“God lives. He’s aware of us, of each one of us,” she said. “Music is healing, has healing power, and we need to fill our lives with music. It’s very important. I feel that is something that the Lord is trying to tell me: Fill your life with music.”

Playing basketball has been really good and helped me gain some friends. There is a park next to our house and it makes me feel more motivated to get out and shoot, to get really good at basketball. For school we were playing, and I played really well against a team. Two days later I found out that they offered me a spot on an all-state team, which is a really big deal. We did some research and realized that they play on Sundays, and so it just never really crossed my mind to play there after that.

We don’t have a lot of youth in our ward. As far as the young men it’s me, two other priests, and about five deacons. Our leaders like to take us out each month to visit and see the youth that don’t come and invite them to youth activities. It’s just cool to see how much the leaders think about others.

Our ward has been really focused on goals because of the new Children and Youth program. We had a combined youth activity that involved all four areas! Each area had a different activity attached. I was in charge of focusing on the physical goal activity, so we played volleyball.

We’ve really been working to emphasize those four parts of our lives. It’s helped me also realize how important goal setting is. Without goals, it’s hard to see that you are improving in your life.

I think it’s important for people in the Church to understand how amazing it is to have the knowledge we do, such as the plan of salvation.

In October 1946 General Conference, following the end of World War II, President George F. Richards of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles related the following experience: "A few years ago...I had a remarkable dream. I have seldom mentioned it to other people. I dreamed a group of my own associates found ourselves in a courtyard where, around the outer edge of it, were German soldiers-and Fuhrer Adolph Hitler was there with this group, and they seemed to be sharpening their swords and cleaning their guns, and making preparations for a slaughter of some kind, or an execution. We knew not what, but evidently we were their objects. But presently a circle formed and this Fuhrer and his men were all within the circle, and my group and I were circled on the outside; and he was sitting on the inside of the circle with his back to the outside, and when we walked around and I got directly opposite to him, I stepped inside the circle and walked across to where he was sitting, and spoke to him in a manner something like this: "I am your brother. You are my brother. In our heavenly home we lived together in love and peace. Why can we not so live together here on earth?" And it seemed to me that I felt in myself, welling up in my soul, a love for that man, and I could feel that he was having the same experience, and presently he arose, and we embraced each other and kissed each other, a kiss of affection...I think the Lord gave me that dream. Why should I dream of this man, one of the greatest enemies of mankind, and one of the wickedest, but that the Lord should teach me to love my enemies, and I must love the wicked as well as the good?" Remember, Elder Richards made these remarks not one full year after the end of hostilities in World War II. Present in his audience were, undoubtedly, servicemen and women who had been injured, even maimed for life. Widows and children of the slain may have been included among those who heard his words that day. Forgiveness and peace are not easy messages. But they are the message of the Savior nonetheless.

At this time in your life, you have probably had the experience of trying to perform a task that seemed really difficult and beyond your ability or experience. And possibly while you were attempting this seemingly insurmountable task, there were some, maybe even friends, who tried to discourage you, embarrass you, and belittle you. Challenges are different for each of us, but the Source for help is the same. Let’s look at Nephi’s experience.
He grew up in a desert. We don’t know if he had ever seen a ship before the Lord asked him to build a ship—a seemingly insurmountable task! But Nephi had faith the Lord would help him. He said the Lord showed him “from time to time” how he should build it (1 Ne. 18:1). Nephi tells us he did not build it like men build ships. He built it “after the manner” the Lord showed him (1 Ne. 18:2). Then he tells us how.
“I did pray oft unto the Lord; wherefore the Lord showed unto me great things” (1 Ne. 18:3).
When you pray often and seek to know the Lord’s will like Nephi did, the Lord will show you the way. But you can be sure when you are trying your best to obey, you may face strong opposition from those wishing to discourage and dissuade you. Nephi’s dissenters were his own brothers. Think how hard that would be!
At times you young women may feel you are having an experience like Nephi. The Lord has not asked you to build a ship, but to build your life. You don’t yet know what your completed mortal life looks like. But your Father in Heaven knows and can guide you one step at a time. He is asking you to build your life according to His guidelines because He is the One who created you and wants you ready to return back home with Him someday. Like Nephi, you too may have detractors and dissenters seeking to change your course, or at least slow down your progress.
But you have access to the same system of communication that Nephi used. Long before e-mail and faxes, cell phones and satellite dishes, computers and the Internet, this communication with your Heavenly Father was in place. It predates every type of networking invention today. Its power extends through the cosmos.
Heavenly Father has given you the gift of the Holy Ghost to be available to help you whenever you earnestly seek Him. Like Nephi, you can know what to do to build according to the Lord’s plan for you. You will want to invite this power to help you navigate through the challenges of mortality until you are safely home.
It requires no special equipment or experience, no social status or money for the Holy Ghost to guide you. The next time you renew your baptismal covenant by taking the sacrament, listen to the promise: when you always remember your Savior and keep His commandments, you will always have His Spirit to be with you (see D&C 20:77, 79). Think of that! With a gift so magnificent, why would we ever resist such guidance?
When our young daughter was practicing the piano, I suggested she play her piece over five more times to be prepared for her lesson.
She said, “No, Mom. Five is too many.”
I said, “Then you choose how many times you need.”
She said, “No. You choose—but don’t choose five!”
Are we ever like that when the Spirit prompts us what to do and it isn’t easy or comfortable or popular? We say, “Please tell me again. I want to be obedient, but just tell me something a little easier—and more fun.” It can be dangerous trying to please ourselves.
I remember when I was about your age wishing the Spirit would tell me something different. I grew up in a small town in Canada. There were 10 people in my high school graduating class, so I graduated in the top 10 of my class! One evening my sister Shirley and I were going to the same party at a friend’s house. Mom and Dad reminded us to come right home after the party. Shirley was a year younger than I and went with her group of friends, and I went with mine. After the party Shirley went directly home, a clear indication to Mom and Dad that the party was over. I was not as wise. With my group of friends we began driving around the exciting places in town—the grain elevators and the cemetery!
As time passed I got the strong feeling that I should be home. But how could I be the first one to say, “I have to go home”? So I didn’t. I stayed with my friends, laughing and pretending I was having a good time. The feeling that I should go home grew stronger and stronger. Finally I laughingly said to my friends, “If you see a blue car ahead, it’s just my dad looking for me.” No sooner had I said those words than there indeed was a blue car and my dad standing in the middle of the road (there wasn’t a lot of traffic), waving his arms for us to stop.
Dad came around to the car door, opened it, and said quietly, “Sharon, you’d better come home with me.” I wanted to crawl under the floor mats of the car and never come out! How could my dad be so cruel and insensitive, and why didn’t my sister wait outside the house so Mom and Dad wouldn’t know when the party was over? I talked to my sister recently about this, and she said, “I did wait outside until I almost froze to death.” At the time I was sure it was everyone else’s fault that I was so humiliated in front of my friends!
Through the lens of time and reality, I see more clearly what really happened. I was prompted and warned several times—not by a legion of angels or even one small angel, but a still, small voice. Actually, it was just a feeling I had. It was so subtle, so quiet that it could be easily brushed away and I could pretend it wasn’t really there—and my friends were!
I had overstepped something that was expected of me. I had chosen to be popular with my friends instead of pleasing my parents and the Lord. But even when I deliberately chose not to obey, the Spirit was still there prompting me. You can’t do wrong and feel right. Pretending the Spirit isn’t prompting you when it is, is like putting the wrong answer down on a test when you know the right answer.
There may be times the Spirit finds it difficult to help you because maybe you are not asking for His help in your prayers, or maybe because you are not listening, or maybe the message can’t get through the loud music or the radio or video.
Kirstin said, “From personal experience, if we will listen to the Spirit, our lives will not be as complicated and full of temptation” (letter on file in the Young Women office). Laman and Lemuel refused to listen so many times that they were “past feeling” those sacred promptings (1 Ne. 17:45).
You might ask yourself, How can I tell it’s the Holy Ghost teaching me and not my emotions or circumstances? Think of a time when you know you felt the Spirit of the Lord. Maybe it was during testimony meeting at camp or you were with your family or you were reading the scriptures or praying. Maybe sometime during this meeting as you listen to the music or hear our prophet speak, you will feel that warmth in your heart. That is the Holy Ghost bearing witness to you. Remember, remember how the Spirit feels. Use that experience to help you identify the Spirit again and again.
The Holy Ghost will teach you in different ways at different times. Nephi had to learn this. Learn how the Lord communicates with you. Amanda said: “I was sitting in seminary one day, listening to the ‘Plan of Salvation Speech’ that I had heard a million times before, but all of a sudden, it just clicked. I could kind of see in my mind everything and how it fit together. I could really feel the [Spirit of the] Holy Ghost with me and knew that everything in the gospel was true” (letter).

Dear New Era Readers:
Driving home from Salt Lake City where we had left our daughter Susan at the Missionary Home, we wondered where we would find her little “love note” saying the things so hard to put into spoken words at the time of parting.
All during high school and her years away at college we had found these treasured bits, written in the quiet of night for last-minute pinning to her pillow, or to ours, or for slipping quietly under a dinner plate to be found after she’d gone. So we had come to expect and look forward to them and their blessing of comfort and the assurance that, indeed, all was well.
We were not disappointed. Hardly had I entered the house when, putting our soiled clothes into the laundry hamper, there it was, taped inside the lid. Removing it carefully, I thought, “How strange to put it here,” until I read the words, “You are the soap and water of my soul.”
Reading and rereading I stood shaken and tearful, until, hearing the door open quietly, I turned to face Susan’s dad. He was holding a note found taped to the steering wheel of the pick-up. We exchanged papers and I read, “Roads—red roads and brown roads, and wonderful roads you have brought me along …”
These were the beginning. Through almost two years we have continued to find them, as she had planned, each written to fit its chosen hiding place. We hope that by sharing them with you, you can come to feel a greater closeness to your families.
Sincerely,
Susan Savage’s Mother

I descended at my own pace. Five feet (1.5 m) … I felt a current jostle me. Now ten feet. Suddenly it became dark. I felt my breaths shorten. This freezing, murky ocean was nothing like the pool we had practiced in. Scared and claustrophobic, I darted up to the water’s surface.
“What happened?” the instructor’s assistant asked me. Tears welled up inside my mask. I was in the middle of my scuba-diving certification exam, performing a 30-foot (9 m) descent, one of the necessary skills to pass the exam. The assistant saw my panic and assured me I would be OK. He was encouraging, yet not prodding. At one point he told me, “You don’t have to do this.” It was then I realized that I wanted to.
I realized that although this was hard for me, I wanted to accomplish it; I wanted to gain my certification. So I bridled my fear and completed the remaining skills with the class to pass the exam. It was hard, but with some encouragement I was able to do it.

Togtokhin Enkhtuvshin, who now serves as president of the Ulaanbaatar Selbe Branch, recalls that during Mongolia’s socialist era, Mongolians “were not taught about religion. Moral values declined. Drinking, smoking, and moral sin became accepted. When I was a little boy, though, my grandmother taught me about God. She was Buddhist, but she told me about Jesus Christ. I felt that religion could unite our people and help them progress.”
Enkhtuvshin prayed to find something that would change his life and help the country. “I didn’t know what God I was praying to,” he says, “but my parents said that if there was a God, he would help me.” Eager to find out more about Jesus Christ, Enkhtuvshin accepted an invitation to study in Germany, where he knew he would find many Christian religions.
One day in Germany, Enkhtuvshin met Latter-day Saint missionaries on the street. “They gave me Russian and German copies of the Book of Mormon,” he recalls. “I read the book in one day and one night. I love this book.” Two days later he attended church, and during the summer of 1993 he was baptized. “I was excited to be baptized and thought I might be the first Mongolian member,” he says, “but I was concerned about returning home and not having the Church.”
Unaware of the gospel developments in his country, Enkhtuvshin returned to Mongolia the same month that six young elders arrived there to teach English, learn Mongolian, and share the gospel. He was shopping in a department store with his children when he noticed a familiar sight: clean-cut young missionaries! “At that time I knew that God was helping me,” he says. “I was very excited to find that I was not alone.”
Enkhtuvshin’s wife, Doyodiin Dashgerel, and their five children have joined the Church, and Enkhtuvshin has been a key figure in helping the Church gain government recognition. The Church was legally registered in October 1994.
As a professor, Enkhtuvshin struggled for many years to provide for his large family in a two-bedroom, Russian-built apartment. Inflation makes it difficult for Mongolians to live on an average salary of U.S. $50 per month, and they are dependent on imported goods that are expensive and limited in supply. With the new freedom of the market-based economy, Enkhtuvshin and his wife decided in 1994 to open a small delguur, or food shop. Shoppers in the couple’s food shop could find Dashgerel weighing sausage, cucumbers, or tomatoes in a four-foot-wide shop with a picture of the resurrected Savior on the wall behind her.

One Sunday my granddaughter Diana, who is four years old, was sitting next to her father at church. Diana sat reverently, enjoying the comfort of her father’s arm holding her close to him. However, when the bishop stood up and announced the sacrament hymn, Diana gently lifted her father’s arm from her shoulder and placed it in his lap. Then she sat up straight and folded her arms. She looked over at her father and encouraged him to do the same.
Diana’s message to her father was perfectly clear. She was telling him to turn his complete and total attention to the Savior.

During the cold and gray days of the Great Depression I remember a wonderful servant of the Savior by the name of C. Perry Erickson. Brother Erickson, a contractor, had a difficult time finding work. He could have shut himself up. He could have become bitter and angry. He could have given up. Instead, when I was 12 he was my Scoutmaster. He spent countless hours helping me and others my age to learn, to grow, and to approach every difficulty with confidence and optimism. Without exception, every one of C. Perry Erickson’s Scouts received an Eagle award. I knew then.

Yes, the testimonies of priesthood leaders and faithful ward members helped me to know.
I remember the words of my mother and father. I remember their expressions of faith and love for their Heavenly Father. I knew then.
I knew the reality of the Savior’s compassion when, at the request of my father, the bishop of the ward, I delivered food and clothing to the widows and poor of the ward.
I knew, when as a young father, my wife and I gathered our children around us and expressed our gratitude to our Heavenly Father for our many blessings.
I knew last April, when I heard from this pulpit the words of our prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, who called Jesus his friend, exemplar, leader, Savior, and King.
President Hinckley said: “Through giving His life in pain and unspeakable suffering, He has reached down to lift me and each of us and all the sons and daughters of God from the abyss of eternal darkness following death. He has provided something better—a sphere of light and understanding, growth and beauty.”

Now, I would like to bear my testimony—I know that Joseph Smith saw what he said he saw, that the heavens opened and God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, appeared to an unlearned youth reared in the backwoods of New York.
As a special witness of the name of Jesus Christ in all the world, I promise you that if you seek the Lord, you will find Him. Ask, and you shall receive.
I pray that you may do so and testify to the ends of the earth that the gospel of our Lord and Savior is restored to man! In the name of my friend, my exemplar, my Savior and King, Jesus Christ, amen.

Tim Healey of Missoula, Montana, learned the value of determination. He represented his state and country in the World School Boy Wrestling Tournament, where he took second place in his division.
Tim was plagued by back pains but overcame illness on the day of the final matches as he wrestled in the competition that led to his selection as a member of the Montana team. As a member of that team, he competed against 13 countries in the world tournament.
Tim serves as teachers quorum president in the Missoula Third Ward, Missoula Montana Stake.

I knew I needed to go to the temple. I lived only a short car ride away from the nearest temple, yet I hadn’t been in months.
One night, I was reading Elder Neil L. Andersen’s talk from the October 2022 general conference. A sentence stood out to me: “As we enter the temple, we are freed for a time from the worldly influences crowding against us as we learn of our purpose in life and the eternal gifts offered us through our Savior, Jesus Christ.”1
I wanted to feel free from the world. Struck with a burst of determination, I scheduled an appointment to do proxy initiatories.
On the day of the appointment, I came home from work feeling tired and grumpy for no reason. I wasn’t in the mood to go to the temple.
But I remembered my past desire, even if I didn’t feel it in the moment. I went back out to my car and started driving.
Twenty minutes later, the temple came into view.
Tears sprang to my eyes. In that moment, my desire returned. The temple was the place I needed to be that night. I had to hold back more tears so I wouldn’t lose sight of the road.
The temple is a place of refuge from worldly influences and the struggles in our lives. President Russell M. Nelson has asked us to “establish a pattern of regular temple attendance.”2 As we do, we’ll enjoy the blessings of returning again and again to the house of the Lord.
Here are just a few of the blessings I noticed from attending the temple that day:
When I attended the temple that day, my bad mood was lifted. It was replaced by “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Philippians 4:7).
The peace we find in the temple comes directly from God. We can connect to God anywhere through His Spirit, but the temple is set apart for us to commune directly with the Lord.
President Nelson taught: “[The temple] is His house. It is filled with His power. … I promise that increased time in the temple will bless your life in ways nothing else can.”3 Attending the temple allows us to feel God’s power. That power can come as revelation, as clarity of mind, or as a feeling of comfort.
Beyond feeling peace, I also remembered the covenants I had previously made. As I acted as proxy in the initiatory, I focused on the words of the ordinance. Those words reminded me that God would give me strength and would help me persevere through my trials.
When we return to the temple, we remember the promises we make to God and the eternal promises He makes to us.
Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught: “We do not build or enter holy temples solely to have a memorable individual or family experience. Rather, the covenants received and the ordinances performed in temples are essential to the sanctifying of our hearts and for the ultimate exaltation of God’s sons and daughters.”4
While we receive personal blessings in the temple, we should also remember the work we do for the dead. When we perform proxy ordinances, they are for the salvation of those beyond the veil.
The names of the people I helped were provided to me by the temple. I didn’t know any of the women I stood as proxy for that day. But I felt the sacred power given to them through the initiatory ordinance.
Our temple attendance helps further God’s plan for His children. In our own small way, we are participating in the work “to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39). Elder Bednar taught, “As we become anxiously engaged in this sacred work, we are obeying the commandments to love and serve God and our neighbors [see Matthew 22:34–40].”5
For those of us who live near a temple, it may be easy to forget the blessings that come from temple attendance. As President Russell M. Nelson has promised, “Increased time in the temple will bless your life in ways nothing else can.”6 For those who live far from a temple, it may be hard to fit temple visits in our schedules. But the power of temple attendance is constant, and the blessings are real.
As we spend more time in the temple, we can find rest from our challenges and our hurt. We can commune with God and be part of His great work—for our own souls and the souls of all His children.

As a young man, Brother Vern Crowley said he learned something of the crucial lesson the Prophet Joseph had taught the early Saints in Nauvoo when he told them to “love others, even our enemies as well as friends.” This is a good lesson for each of us.

After his father became ill, Vern Crowley took responsibility for running the family wrecking yard although he was only fifteen years of age. Some customers occasionally took unfair advantage of the young man, and parts were disappearing from the lot overnight. Vern was angry and vowed to catch someone and make an example of him. Vengeance would be his.

Just after his father had started to recover from his illness, Vern was making his rounds of the yard one night at closing time. It was nearly dark. In a distant corner of the property, he caught sight of someone carrying a large piece of machinery toward the back fence. He ran like a champion athlete and caught the young thief. His first thought was to take out his frustrations with his fists and then drag the boy to the front office and call the police. His heart was full of anger and vengeance. He had caught his thief, and he intended to get his just dues.

Out of nowhere, Vern’s father came along, put his weak and infirm hand on his son’s shoulder, and said, “I see you’re a bit upset, Vern. Can I handle this?” He then walked over to the young would-be thief and put his arm around his shoulder, looked him in the eye for a moment, and said, “Son, tell me, why are you doing this? Why were you trying to steal that transmission?” Then Mr. Crowley started walking toward the office with his arm around the boy, asking questions about the young man’s car problems as they walked. By the time they had arrived at the office, the father said, “Well, I think your clutch is gone and that’s causing your problem.”

In the meantime, Vern was fuming. “Who cares about his clutch?” he thought. “Let’s call the police and get this over with.” But his father just kept talking. “Vern, get him a clutch. Get him a throwout bearing too. And get him a pressure plate. That should take care of it.” The father handed all of the parts to the young man who had attempted robbery and said, “Take these. And here’s the transmission, too. You don’t have to steal, young man. Just ask for it. There’s a way out of every problem. People are willing to help.”

Brother Vern Crowley said he learned an everlasting lesson in love that day. The young man came back to the lot often. Voluntarily, month by month, he paid for all of the parts Vic Crowley had given him, including the transmission. During those visits he asked Vern why his dad was the way he was and why he did what he did. Vern told him something of their Latter-day Saint beliefs and how much his father loved the Lord and loved people. Eventually the would-be thief was baptized. Vern later said, “It’s hard now to describe the feelings I had and what I went through in that experience. I, too, was young. I had caught my crook. I was going to extract the utmost penalty. But my father taught me a different way.”

Because of the attacks on the United States on September 11, 2001, my grandma was stranded in Colorado. She was visiting my Uncle Bryan, and she could not get a flight home because they were all cancelled. She needed to get home so that she could take some medicine that would cost a lot of money to get in Colorado.
I asked my mom if I could fast for my grandma, even though it wasn’t fast Sunday. Mom thought that that was a good idea. My mom and dad and little sister all fasted and prayed with me, and my grandma was able to make it home safely and get back on her medicine that she needed to take.
I know that Heavenly Father answers prayers, and I know that He loves us and wants to help us.

Just right, Andi thought as she quickly looked in the mirror. She was wearing her favorite red dress. She always wanted to look her best on Sundays. She ran down to breakfast.
Andi was just finishing her last piece of toast when the Reeders’ car horn honked from the driveway. “Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!” Andi said, kissing them as she ran out the door.
Even though Mom and Dad weren’t members of the Church, they encouraged Andi to go to church each week. The Reeder family had given her a ride almost every Sunday since she was baptized and confirmed. Andi liked how they always made her feel so welcome and loved.
After sacrament meeting it was time for Primary. Andi loved being in Brother and Sister Long’s class. They were kind, and their lessons were always the best.
“Today we’re going to talk about temples,” Sister Long said. “What are some things we know about temples?”
Andi knew one answer: “We can do temple baptisms.” She was excited about that because in a few years, she would be able to go to the temple to do baptisms.
“Great, Andi. What else do we know?”
“You can be married in the temple,” said Andi’s friend Allison.
“Very good,” said Sister Long. “Anything else?”
“Families can be together forever when they’re sealed in the temple,” Allison added.
But not my family, thought Andi. Mom and Dad haven’t been sealed in the temple! Suddenly her face felt hot, and her eyes began to sting with tears.
“Are you OK, Andi?” asked Sister Long.
“Yes,” Andi said, trying to hold back the tears. But she could feel her heart pounding all through the rest of the lesson.
When class was over, Sister Long sat by Andi and put an arm around her. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
“I won’t be with my mom and dad forever,” Andi said. “They haven’t been married in the temple. Who will I belong to after I die? Does Heavenly Father still love me even if my parents aren’t members?”
Sister Long looked straight into Andi’s eyes. “No matter who you are and no matter if your family has been to the temple or not, you are still part of Heavenly Father’s family. You can stay close to Him and be an example to others. He will always love, guide, and protect you, no matter what. He wants to bless you and your family. You are a child of God, Andi.”
Just then Andi’s heart seemed to skip a beat, and the pounding stopped. Now a warm feeling filled her heart instead. She knew what her teacher had said was true.

There is an old Welsh story from the 13th century about a prince who returned home to find his dog with blood dripping down its face. The man rushed inside and, to his horror, saw that his baby boy was missing and his cradle overturned. In anger the prince pulled out his sword and killed his dog. Shortly thereafter, he heard the cry of his son—the babe was alive! By the infant’s side lay a dead wolf. The dog had, in reality, defended the prince’s baby from a murderous wolf.

My dad was in the army, so we moved a lot when I was young. One of the hardest things about moving was leaving my friends behind. I had trouble making new friends because I was shy. Thankfully, people were always friendly at school and Primary. At church it didn’t matter how we were different. We were just all friends.
One way I overcame my shyness was by helping at church. It started with Primary. I shared a scripture in sharing time. I read out loud in class. Little by little, I felt more confident. This helped me to stand up for my beliefs.

This same light led the way for 15-year-old Mary Elizabeth Rollins and her 13-year-old sister, Caroline, on a dark and chilling day in Independence, Missouri. It was 1833, and an angry mob roared through the streets of Independence, burning property and wreaking havoc. In their path was the home of Brother William W. Phelps, where the printing press was kept. He had been printing revelations received by the Prophet Joseph Smith. The mob demolished the printing press and threw the wreckage into the street. However, they stacked up the printed pages in the yard so they could burn them later.
Mary Elizabeth and Caroline had been hiding by the fence, frightened spectators to all this destruction. Even though she was terrified, Mary Elizabeth’s eye was fixed on those precious pages. She and her sister ran out from their hiding place, gathered up the scriptures, and bolted. Some of the mob saw them and ordered them to stop. But the brave girls ran into a large cornfield, where they dropped breathlessly to the ground. They carefully laid the pages of revelations between the tall rows of corn and then covered the pages by lying on them. The relentless mobsters looked and looked for the girls, coming quite close at times, but never did find them. Eventually they gave up their search to see what further damage they could do to the town.
I believe the light of the Lord directed Mary Elizabeth and Caroline as to what to do and where to go for safety. Sisters, that light shines for you, and it will guide you as it did the Rollins girls. It will keep you safe even when danger lurks. As the Master promised, “I will also be your light … ; and I will prepare the way before you, if it so be that ye shall keep my commandments; … ye shall know that it is by me that ye are led.”